Down with the Sickness
by Devanelle
Summary: Did you ever wonder how the special infected got the way they were? This is the story before and after their infection.


**So this is my interpretation of how the witch became the witch. I Might do some of the other infected depending on how this one does. Any way I hope you like it:)**

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><p><strong>Down with the Sickness<strong>

**Witch**

Isobel sat at the table eyes a plate of chocolate-chip cookies tapping her fingers. If she ate one today she couldn't eat tomorrow, she craved them badly. Any sweets would do really but she brushed the urge aside. Dr. Jacobson said that it was a side-effect of anorexia, wanting carbohydrates all the time. Her eyes lingered on the cookies. She scoffed, what did he _really_ know anyway. She pushed herself away from the table and the evil little temptations opting out for a bottle of water instead. She swished the liquid in her mouth savoring it before swallowing. It left her feeling emptier than before.

Isobel decided to go for a run, that usually made her feel better. Pulling her thin hair into a loose ponytail she stepped out of her house and glanced around cautiously. The crime rate had skyrocketed lately, even reaching her quiet neighborhood. The news had chalked it up to some mobster but her dad said it had something to do with the Green Flue the south was having trouble with. She wasn't even allowed to leave the house except to go to school. Seeing as her parents weren't home now was as perfect a time as any.

Isobel started off heading toward the park. As she fell into a steady rhythm her mind began to wander. She thought of Caleb, she missed him. He broke up with her saying he couldn't watch her starve herself. She thought he'd been happy that she was no longer chubby little Iso-belly. Sniffling, Isobel rubbed the familiar prickle from behind her eyes away and cursed herself for crying so easily. She paused to catch her breath when out of the corner of her eye she saw a man standing in the middle of the road.

He was wearing a dark blue suit with a black suitcase griped tightly in his left hand. He was just staring at the sky. No cars had passed but it wasn't safe to stand in the street like that. As she walked toward him she noticed that he was unusually pale. "Sir?" she called to him. He made no move to acknowledge that he'd heard. She tried again reaching for him, "Sir you really should mo-" just as her palm rested on his shoulder he turned violently. He swung hitting her in the face with such force her frail body tumble to the ground. His face was distorted into a mask of fury.

Isobel got to her feet stumbling slightly as she tried to run. She felt his nails tearing at her back. She used her momentum from her trip to carry her forward gaining some distance between her and her attacker. The sound of screeching tires echoed off the empty street punctuated with a sickening _whump_. She turned enough to make out the hulking form of a black SUV spattered with blood.

For reasons unknown even to herself she continued to run home without reserve. The driveway was still empty when burst through the front door of her house. She ran up the stairs to her room, throwing herself on her bed slamming the door behind her. She was breathing heavily as tears streamed down her face. Something about the action caused her left cheek to sting profusely. Isobel sat up on the edge of her bead and touched where he'd hit her. Her fingertips had blood on them.

She suddenly became very aware of a searing pain coming from her back. She yanked her shirt over her head crying out when it rubbed at her wound. It was soaked thoroughly with her own blood. She threw it in the corner and sank to the floor. She choked out a few sobs before giving into them completely, the events of the day and her pain proving to be too much for her. She pulled her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth for hours as the day faded into night.

The front door slammed downstairs Isobel groaned slightly in irritation at the noise. "Iso? Are you home?" Her mother called out. Footsteps thudded up the stairs toward her. She growled as her blood began to boil, why couldn't they just leave her alone. The door opened with a creak, her parents' silhouettes in the doorway. The noisy woman continued. "Isobel you'll ruin your eyes sitting in the dark like that." With a click the room was alight and her eyes were burning. Isobel screamed and charged the source of her discomfort. She flailed her hands wildly at them connecting with soft flesh.

Screams erupted hurting her ears she was no longer aware whether they were her own or not. She hit and scratched until the screams died completely. Isobel fled the painful light tripping down the stairs. She wandered the house covering her eyes searching for the relief of darkness. She entered a room where a sweet smell wafted from the corner. The smell was oddly comforting as she settled herself on the cool floor against the counters.

She removed her hands from her face and inhaled deeply. She could see perfectly in the dark. Isobel glanced down and screamed in terror. Attached to the end of her arms were horrible claws covered in blood. Past her hand she could see that her pants and shoes were covered in the sticky substance as well. In a panic she ripped the clothes off cutting herself in the process trying to get the offending liquid away from her.

As the realization of why she was covered in blood sunk in she found herself crying again. She cried until the room became light again and she was forced to retreat to another dark room away from The Smell. She cried until the name Isobel meant nothing to her. She cried until she no longer remembered why she was crying.

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><p><strong>So tell me what you think. If you're wondering I made her anorexic to explain why the witch is sooo skinny and why she likes the smell of sugar.<strong>

**Review Please:)**


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